


Jealous Sirius, Oblivious Remus (angst) (Part 2)

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: The second part to my requested fic, Jealous Sirius, Oblivious Remus, where Remus is tutoring a fit student and Sirius gets insanely jealous. Now, Remus has to let Sirius know how he really feels before it's too late.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 119





	Jealous Sirius, Oblivious Remus (angst) (Part 2)

Sirius wasn’t at dinner. The gaping hole beside Remus threatened to swallow him whole. The Grand Hall seemed quieter, the food tasted bland, and no matter how many times James tried to talk to Remus, he received the same blank, disinterested face, and eventually, he gave up. Lily watched Remus stare into his bowl of soup, like it contained some secret antidote to make all of this go away like some bad dream.

The doors of the Grand Hall opened with a loud squeal and Remus’ head dashed up, fleeting hope rising in his throat that Sirius would walk into the Hall and slip next to Remus where he belonged. Even if he didn’t want to talk, feeling Sirius’ presence was better than feeling his absence. Instead, McGonagall through the narrow crack in the doors, walking briskly to the front table, late for supper. 

Remus’ shoulders sunk and, as he turned back to his table, he caught the lingering eye of Beckett Laurens across the room, surrounded by his cackling Slytherin friends. He flashed a gentle smile at Remus, ignoring the not so subtle jabs to the ribs from the boy sitting next to him. Remus could only manage a meek head nod before returning his eyes to his soup. 

Sirius loved him? Not liked. But loved. Had Remus been that stupid? The whole summer, the year before that, all the years that he had known Sirius; was it possible that he missed it? He closed his eyes, thinking back to trips to Hogsmeade, nights spent writhing on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, days spent discovering the secret Hogwarts passageways. Where was Sirius? Buying him chocolates at Honeydukes. Holding his hand while he healed wounds and bones. Glancing over his shoulder with a devilish smile, begging to keep exploring together for just a little longer. 

Sirius was in every memory that Remus had. He was there for the good moments. He refused to leave during the bad days. And yet, somehow, Remus had missed the biggest sign of his life. It was like he had lived the past six years with only one eye open, looking at vague shadows of people with blurry vision. What a crime it is to not look at a person with two eyes wide open.

His eyes were open now. Remus rubbed them hard with his knuckles just to be sure. What was he supposed to do? 

When it was clear that his soup held no answers, he pushed away from the table and stalked out of the Great Hall with his eyes on his feet. He figured he could ignore seeing Beckett, who was surely watching him, and it would give him an excuse to leave without getting caught in any conversations with nearby students. 

With his back turned, he didn’t notice Professor McGonagall looking at him, her glasses perched on the narrow tip of her nose, commiserating eyes on full display. Cats have nine lives, and she wished more than anything she could lend one to her warring boys. A chance to start over and fix what she desperately hoped wasn’t irreparable.

Remus was slow to climb the stairs to the Gryffindor dorm. The common room was empty, and even though he knew there was a thousand crevices around the castle that Sirius could wedge himself into, he had the sinking feeling that what lay behind the door in front of him was not an empty bedroom. 

It occurred to him that, should he see Sirius, he had no idea what to say. Was this an I’m sorry I was so blind please forgive me, I love you too situation? Or more of a you’re overreacting, Beckett means nothing, stop being such a self-absorbed prick type of thing? Remus had always been the one who was good at apologizing, but now? Was he apologizing for being too afraid to love Sirius all these years, or was he sorry for being angry at Sirius for never bothering to tell him in the first place?

He turned the knob and timidly stepped into the room. The air was stale, like no one had opened the door all day, and the space looked just like they left it this morning; in a permanent state of disarray around Sirius’ bed, neat and tidy by comparison everywhere else. Remus sighed and slipped off his shoes, not bothering with the light. He lay on his bed and groaned, sinking into the mattress. If he slept a hundred years, he was willing to wager that his head would still hurt from all of this.

He gazed over at Sirius’ bed, bathed in pale light from the crescent moon outside, and his heart ached. Remus had spent countless nights during third year tossing and turning, sleep evading his every move, dark purple circles tattooed under his eyes. One night, he found Sirius’ face in the dark, all long eyelashes and parted lips and messy hair splayed against his pillow, and found, with a breathtaking realization, that watching his chest slowly rise and fall was a silent lullaby. Every night he woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, he found Sirius, and suddenly everything was okay again.

Remus wished that he was looking at Sirius now. Instead, all he saw was empty bedsheets and an untouched glass of water and the tips of five stubby toes–

Remus bolted upright, blinking furiously. It was unmistakable. One, two, three, four, five little pale toes, the nails clipped down to the quick, just how Sirius insisted. With a thick swallow, Remus clocked James’ trunk across the room, lid ajar and contents spilling out, as if someone had rummaged through it quickly without care for caution. 

The bed was not empty. The room was not empty. 

He was so silent. So still. Remus hadn’t sensed a thing. 

The way he saw it, Remus had two choices: call him out, or make a run for it.

Remus did neither. He lay back down on his bed slowly, eyes not leaving the seemingly empty swath of bedsheets on Sirius’ mattress, and breathed quietly. Remus stared at Sirius, haphazardly covered in the invisibility cloak, the hem just a smidge too short to conceal his body, and he was sure – so sure – that Sirius was staring back at him. Brown eyes on blue. Dog on wolf. Remus on Sirius. Ten feet apart, but a world of space between them.

When Remus woke up in the morning, Sirius was already gone – actually gone this time; the invisibility cloak was stored safely back in James’ trunk, and there was no evidence of stray toes on the bed. He made his bed quietly, stumbling through the process, mind too cloudy with wispy thoughts to think clearly.

“You guys are still fighting?” James asked from the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Toothpaste dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt, but he paid it no mind. “Is this about that Beckett kid?”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Remus admitted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Where did he go this morning?”

James shrugged and spit into the sink. “Don’t know. Early breakfast maybe?”

“He told me he loved me,” Remus revealed, clenching his clammy hands. Maybe that wasn’t okay to tell James yet. Maybe James wouldn’t understand.

“Well yeah,” James said, “I thought we all knew that?”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“What do you mean what?”

“I mean what do you mean you knew he loved me?”

“Oh,” James replied. He stowed his toothbrush away, wiped his mouth on a towel, and sat on Remus’ trunk. He drummed his fingers on his jeans for a moment and sighed. “I mean, I thought it was just like an unofficial-official thing. You two are always dancing around each other. I just figured…you know, that you guys knew and it wasn’t up to anyone else to tell you differently.”

Remus held his head in his hands. So, everyone could see it but him? 

But what about Sirius? Had he not seen the way Remus looked at him after the full moon had set, eyes brimming with adoration and tenderness? Had he not felt the lingering touches when they ran through the secret rooms and hallways only known to the Marauders, teeming with longing and desperation? Had he not heard the way his heart beat out of his chest any time Sirius crooned his name, plump lips forming perfect vowels and rolling consonants like never before?

If Remus was blind, so was Sirius, goddamnit. It wasn’t Remus’ job to jump off a cliff without a harness, hoping he’d find a soft landing amongst a sea of jagged rocks. Sirius could have taken the jump instead – he was the athletic one, after all – and told Remus months ago. They could have taken the jump hand clasped in strong hand, because at least if they fell into the ravine they would be together. 

“He can’t be mad at me,” Remus decided, anger suddenly crawling up his throat and burning his tongue. “He doesn’t get to decide how I live my life if he won’t even tell me how he feels. That’s not how love works.”

“Sirius doesn’t have a great idea of what love looks like, Remus,” James said gently, effectively pouring a bucket of ice water down Remus’ throat. Of course. Sirius had no idea what love was supposed to look like. How warm it felt. How beautiful it sounded. “He’s not trying to be difficult. I think he’s just scared.”

“What if I’m scared too?” Remus whispered, arms crossing protectively over his chest and hands clutching his biceps. He looked at the myriad of scars that careened over his skin, angry red and pink lines that would never disappear. None of those marks – not even the deepest cut that stretched the length of his forearm – hurt as bad as his heart did right now, constricted by fear. Fear that he had already lost his best friend, the love of his life. Fear that if he did the right thing, he could have everything he’d ever dreamed of.

James shrugged and tried to coax a little smile out of Remus. “The best things in life worth doing are the ones that terrify us.”

They looked at each other for a quiet moment before Remus’ eyebrows arched and a laughed. a small, breathy noise. “Where the hell did you pull that from?”

“I think Lily said it to me once,” James admitted, scratching the back of his head. “It’s pretty good though, huh?” 

Remus nodded. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever your heart tells you to do,” James answered assuredly. “But if you start dating that Slytherin kid I am not coming to your wedding, I will not approve of you marrying a Slytherin, I cannot do it.”

“What if it’s a kid that was supposed to be Slytherin but somehow infiltrated his way into Gryffindor?”

James threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders and pulled him in close. “That is one hundred percent James Potter approved, Moons.”

Charms was the only class that Remus didn’t share with Sirius. Naturally, instead of working on his nonverbal spells, he wracked his brain for the right words for when he saw Sirius in herbology. 

Remus estimated that he read approximately a hundred and twenty books per year, give or take. He didn’t have time to find the exact number from the library ledger. If his calculations were correct, over six years, he’d have read over seven hundred books, which must correlate to millions upon millions of words. Remus was thoroughly impressed with himself that he couldn’t think of a single word beyond hi. He briefly considered asking James to smash him over the head with a dictionary in hopes that every word in the English language would find its way onto his tongue. 

He was no closer to a resolution when the bell tower chimed and he realized, with a sinking stone in his stomach, that it was time for potions. Remus told himself he was dreading the class so much because he had spent three extra hours in that classroom yesterday sweeping glass and wiping potions from the floor, but he also knew the sour taste of a lie.

Sirius was sat on his stool, head bent over his notebook, shutting out the world around him. Remus approached cautiously, pulling out his seat and settling down as quietly as possible. With the way his stomach was flipping, Remus worried that the second he opened his mouth he would see the toast and eggs he ate for breakfast that morning spill out onto the table top. He swallowed hard.

“Hi,” Remus croaked, hating that his voice broke on a just a single word. 

Sirius bristled, but didn’t make any effort to turn his head or respond. He continued to write in his notebook, pages hidden behind a curtain of hair. 

Behind them, James and Lily found their seats. James jerked his finger towards Sirius, but Remus just shook his head.

“Hey Pads,” James said, reaching to tap Sirius’ back. “Missed you at breakfast. They had those honey muffin things you like.”

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbled almost incoherently, as if moving his lips was too much of a chore. 

James’ mouth puckered. “I was thinking at practice today we could try some of those flip moves we saw at the Harpies game last week.”

“I’m not going to practice today,” Sirius answered curtly.

“Why, because you’d rather sulk?” James challenged gamely. 

Sirius remained quiet, and didn’t open his mouth to speak for the rest of the class. 

At the point of surrendering with his hands waving a white flag, Remus wondered if Sirius was going to stay at James’ house next summer, and if he was going to be obligated to remain home at his cottage in the Welsh hills, forced to endure lonely moons again once more. And then it hit him. 

Sirius had spent years living in a house, unwanted by his parents, hated by his family, and blaming himself. As much as Sirius insisted he was fine and none of it affected him, there was no denying the damage it had caused. And now, Remus realized, he did the very thing he had promised himself he wouldn’t do to Sirius. He had seemingly chosen someone over Sirius, and had proved to the poor boy once again that he was not deserving of love or happiness or a life worth living. 

He made Sirius feel unlovable. And he would never forgive himself.

If potions was uncomfortable, transfiguration was unbearable. It was the class that had started this whole stupid thing, and everywhere Remus looked, from his textbook to the posters on the wall to the notes that Professor McGonagall scribbled on the board, he was reminded of Beckett Laurens.

There was nothing inherently wrong with Beckett Laurens. He was nice enough, considering he was a Slytherin constantly surrounded by bumbling narcissists, and he was handsome in a polished, sophisticated way. He wasn’t the smartest kid in his year, but he wasn’t an idiot, and he had a certain affinity for divination that was unmatched. He helped Remus with a project last year, before he dropped the class, and though reading dreams and prophecies was not Remus’ idea of fun, spending time with someone new was exhilarating. 

But he wasn’t Sirius. Sirius was gruff and loud and only smart when he wanted to be. He couldn’t read dreams or keep a dandelion alive to save his life. But he was a transfiguration master. He was defiant and brave and rebellious. He was so many things, a culmination of rejecting tradition and embracing the unknown. He was everything. He would never be Beckett Laurens, and thank god for that. 

The good thing about McGonagall’s class was that there was very little partner work. She explained the notes and demonstrated the technique, assigned the homework and offered help to those who were struggling. When the bell rang to signal classes had ended for the day, Remus hadn’t attempted to speak a single word to Sirius, no matter how many times he stole a sideways glance.

Students rushed to the door, eager to enjoy their weekends, already planning their trips to Hogsmeade. Sirius was unable to run to the front of the pack, instead getting stuck behind an ocean of people clogging the way to freedom.

“Remus, Sirius, please stay,” Professor McGonagall called out, fumbling with objects on her desk like she was busy doing something – anything. 

Remus and Sirius stopped dead in their tracks. Sirius was the first to turn around, eyes pointedly looking anywhere but in Remus’ direction. James and Lily brushed passed them, confused, sympathetic looks playing on their faces. They closed the door behind them, leaving Sirius and Remus no choice but to stay. Together, they stood as far apart as the rows of tables would allow in front of McGonagall’s desk.

“I think today is a good day to serve your detentions,” she announced, fixing a pile of papers that was already perfectly straight.

“What?” Sirius asked, shaking his head.

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “Professor, I wasn’t aware we had detention?”

McGonagall nodded, pointing at a small journal, which was clearly blank. “It says right here, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, detention for disrupting class last week.” She snapped the book closed, as if she was furious, but her foot tapping nervously on the floor gave her away. “You two will sit here until dinnertime. I suspect that will be enough to get the point across.”

She marched from behind her desk and left the room, charming the door to only open at the appropriate time.

Sirius scoffed, dropping his books on a table with a loud thud. He took a seat and rest his head on folded arms.

Left confused, Remus knew that this may be one of the last chances he had at getting Sirius alone without the possibility of him running off or hiding under the invisibility cloak. He sat at the table next to Sirius, picking at his fingernails, and took a deep breath.

“Will you talk to me? Please?” Remus begged, half expecting Sirius to play dead for the next two hours.

“What is there to talk about, Remus?” Sirius asked without lifting his head. It was a start. Remus would take it.

“About what you said to me.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I don’t want to forget,” Remus admitted, refusing to let his voice break. He was confident. Strong. He would not let Sirius think he was lying. He would not let Sirius think he was unlovable. 

Sirius’ head lifted from his arms, and Remus saw for the first time just how depraved and exhausted he looked. Deep creases cutting into his face, eyes sagging, lips chapped and bit raw. 

Finally meeting Remus’ eyes, he murmured, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Beckett is nothing,” Remus assured, and was promptly met with rolling eyes and a frustrated sigh.

“Remus–”

“Let me finish–”

“No,” Sirius refused angrily, slashing at the air with his hand. “I know what I saw, Remus, and if you like him, fine, who the fuck cares. I don’t fucking care. I-I was tired when I said that last night, it doesn’t matter anyways–”

“Shut the fuck up Sirius,” Remus demanded, crossing the narrow aisle between their tables and pressing his lips to Sirius’. 

It immediately shut Sirius up. It stopped his heart. It froze him in his tracks. Remus held his mouth so still, just a simple, soft touch, not asking for anything in return. When he pulled away, Sirius’ lips were still parted, eyes wide, lip quivering.

“I love you,” Remus whispered. “I love you, and only you, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. If you don’t love me, that’s fine. But I love you.”

He stepped away from Sirius then, giving him space to breathe, hoping his heart would restart without magical intervention. He made his way towards the back of the room, rubbing his lips together, trying to remember the taste of Sirius if he never spoke to him again. Mint. And, inexplicably, a hint of chocolate. It was not the first kiss he had spent countless years dreaming about. It wasn’t in the snow at Hogesmeade, nor was it in the astronomy tower until a blanket of stars. It wasn’t perfect. But it was the first, and god, Remus hoped it wasn’t the last. 

“Remus?” Sirius called behind him, voice small and hoarse. 

Remus turned around just in time for Sirius to launch into his chest, hands clutching his sweater, lips molding together, bodies becoming one. Sirius gasped into Remus’ mouth, at once coming alive, impossibly close to Remus’ body but needing more. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius panted, stumbling backwards. “I’m sorry for what I said and I’m … I’m just sorry for everything and I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I love you. I love you so fucking much Remus.”

It took a full stunned second for Remus to remember how to work his body. He cupped Sirius’ face with two hands, thumbs wiping away stray trickles of water that streamed from Sirius’ eyes, and pressed a hard kiss to his forehead. “I love you too. Let’s stop being stupid now, okay?”

Sirius nodded eagerly, pressing his lips back against Remus’. He welcomed Remus between his hips, pulling his head down lower to kiss him deeper, tasting every inch of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. Six years’ worth of kisses. A kiss for every sleepless night. A kiss for every full-moon mangled morning. A kiss just because they loved each other, and that was enough.

When their detention was over and Sirius and Remus had straightened their robes and tamed their wild hair, they walked out of the transfiguration classroom hand in hand, sitting next to each other at the Gryffindor table at dinner with wide grins and the collars of their robes tugged up to their ears. Sirius had never in his life been so happy, and Remus knew that it was the glow of a boy who had finally found love in the darkest of places. 

James and Lily clocked their hands – and their robe collars – and shared a discrete smile. James leaned over and nudged Sirius’ ribs.

“Does this mean that we can go on double dates now?” He asked with a sly smirk.

“Absolutely not,” Lily and Sirius replied in unison, and James and Remus feigned offense.

Things were back to normal, it seemed, but a new normal. Gone were the stolen stares, replaced with tender glances. The lingering touches remained, but were no longer confined to arms, and Sirius loved every moment of it. He unabashedly kissed Remus’ cheek, laughing as his new boyfriend furiously blushed.

From the corner of his eye, Remus caught a pair of eyes watching him. He turned his head to see Beckett Laurens and his gentle smile. Beckett flashed Remus an enthusiastic thumbs up, which only made Remus blush even more.

“Did you enjoy your detention?” Professor McGonagall asked, approaching them from behind and scaring Sirius so hard that he nearly threw his corn cob into the air.

Sirius and Remus turned to look at her, confused. In the dozens upon dozens of punishment sentences, McGonagall had never bothered asking about their detention. Then again, McGonagall had also never left the room before during detention. 

“I trust that you found it enlightening,” she continued. “So that a disruption like that never again happens in my classroom. Understood?”

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, both now a violent shade of crimson. It had been her plan all along. McGonagall felt guilty about the tutoring incident, and this was her way of making up for it. 

“Boys?” McGonagall pressed, waiting for an answer.

“Yes ma’am,” they stuttered together.

McGonagall smiled fondly, placing a hand on both of their heads. “Good. Enjoy your dinner, boys.” She turned to walk back to the faculty table, and then stopped. “Need I remind you both that dress code encourages the collars of your robes to be folded downward?”

Sirius pursed his lips together and tugged at the fabric, revealing a large black and purple mark at the dip of his collarbones. McGonagall’s eyebrow arches and she pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. 

“As you were,” she relented, hurrying back to her table before her favorite students could cause her any more of a headache. 

Remus shoved Sirius’ shoulder, imploring him to fix his robe. Sirius shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s called a love bite,” Sirius insisted, “because you love me.”

“I do love you,” Remus laughed, promising himself that he would say those words to Sirius a million times a day, until they were tattooed in his brain.


End file.
